“Reece?” Trying to be mindful of the volume of my voice.
“… never want to see you again … understand me? Madelyn?”
I move a little out of the alcove, and I notice the concierge is staring at me.
“Reece?” Now the concierge is staring and shaking his head at me. I turn my back to him and move the phone from my ear to look at the reception before tucking it back in tight to my head. “Can you hear me?”
“You need to leave me the hell alone. You served your purpose, and now I have found someone else. Someone I love.”
I stand stunned on the spot. His words coming through loud and clear with no way of misinterpreting. I lower the phone, and I hear him call out my name one more time before I disconnect the call. I gulp back the sobs that threaten to escape and snatch at my bag.
The judgmental jerk calls out, “Boyfriend not happy, Love?”
I hand the valet the stub and squeak out a ‘please hurry’ as my stomach starts to roll. Again, things are falling apart. I haven’t had a panic attack in years, but that all too familiar feeling of my ears clogging up and my chest tightening while struggling to get enough air in came over me. It felt like forever, but thankfully the Jeep was brought right to me. The walk from the curb to the driver’s seat felt like a trek. My voice didn’t sound like my own as I said ‘thank you’ to the valet. I knew I shouldn’t be driving, but I had to get away from there. Had to get away from him. He did use me for publicity.
He lied to me.
Chapter Forty-Five
REECE
Thank fuck that girl receptionist had gone when I came to arrange Madelyn’s door card. The male that replaced her looked like a deer in headlights as I asked him to put a card aside for my girlfriend.
“Sure thing Mr Ashton. Is there anything else I can help you with? Is the room to your liking? If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call. I’m available for anything—” he tapped his hand on the counter. “Anything, that you could be needing.”
“Thank you very much, but all I need is the card.” It doesn’t bother me that men try to hit on me. Some guys get all bent out of shape about it but me, I appreciate the compliment. I step back from the counter and turn on my heel for the elevators. “You have yourself a lovely evening.”
“Oh, I will Mr Ashton. Mr Ashton? Can I be so bold as to ask for an autograph?”
I stop and turn to face him. “Sure. Would you like a photograph too?” The guy honestly leapt over the counter as he fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket.
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” he says as he starts snapping away. “Now hang on. No—” he says as he looks at the photo. “Double chin. Let’s get another.”
After taking and checking the twentieth photo, my patience is wearing thin. “Here. Let me take it. What’s your name?” I say as he places his hand on my hip and then pulls it back and lower so it’s resting on my back pocket.
“Tristan. My name is Tristan.” And I swear he leant in further and smelled me.
“Ready?” I take the photo and hand the phone back to him. “You have a good shift okay.”
“Oh, I wanna make sure that it’s perfect,” he pouts. I turn my back to him and head to the elevator.
“You look great in all of them.” I laugh because I honestly thought he was going to follow me into the elevator.
I pull my shirt over my head with one hand and hang it over the chair. I grab my phone out and see a message from Hannah telling me she has been able to set up an interview to be broadcast live tonight at seven. The pillows on the bed bounce as I flop face first down onto the bed. “What a day,” I say to myself as I roll over. My skin makes scratching noises as my palms rub over my face. My mouth drops open as I yawn wide. It wasn’t until I stopped that I realised how tired I was. With a knock at the door, my tiredness disappears at the thought of seeing Madelyn. I hear the beep from the access card, and I cross the room with long strides to the door while taking a quick look at my watch.
I grab the cool steel in my hand and say, “That was great timing.” I pull the door open wide, and the smile quickly fades as I recognise Caitlyn Worthrington standing before me. A blonde and a lot glitzier version of Madelyn. Everything is so over the top that it looks tacky and gaudy.
“Reece baby, how are you? Thanks for leaving the card for me at the front desk.”
“I didn’t leave the card for you at the front desk.” I refuse to move from the doorway, but Caitlyn stepped forward, closing the space between us. She curled her hand around the door, and when I refused to let it go, she turned her hand to my naked torso. Her fingers moved deftly along my ribcage while she clucked her tongue.
“Hmm, still sexy as always, Reece.”
My skin crawls at the thought of her touching me. I let the door go as she tries to press herself up against me.
“Still as desperate as always, Caitlyn.”
“Ohh. That hurts, Reece. We had fun that time.” I pull the shirt off the chair and over my head so she can’t touch me again but like a persistent black fly, she tries again, and her touch makes my skin crawl. “Come on now, Reece. I think we could have some fun. I have some photos that are on an editor’s desk right now to be published if you say no to me. We can make this a very lucrative business arrangement.”
“I have no interest in having anything to do with you Caitlyn. I’d like you to leave.” My phone rings between us as I attempt to get back to the door to show Caitlyn out. I grit my teeth as I tell Caitlyn, “I want you gone. Hello? Madelyn? Where are you?” The phone crackles. “Your sister is here, she sold me out, I can’t believe this.”
I hear Madelyn say my name, but the phone crackles again.
“Reece? You’re awfully tense. How about I help you ease some tension.” Caitlyn drops her hand to my crotch, and I manage to block it at the last second before she can make contact.
I hold her by the wrist and pull her towards the door. I hold onto my phone as I reach for the door and swing it open, propping it with my foot. “I never want to see you again do you understand me?” I bring the phone back to my ear. “Madelyn?”
“Can you hear me?” Madelyn asks but Caitlyn looks unimpressed as I dump her in the hallway. My finger rises to emphasise the point to Caitlyn. “You need to leave me the hell alone. You served your purpose, and now I have found someone else. Someone I love.”
I turn and let the door close of its own accord as I bring all of my attention to Madelyn. “Madelyn?” I look down at the phone and see that it’s dropped out. I press redial and wait for it to connect. A now screaming Caitlyn is bashing on the door demanding to be let in like some demented Big Bad Wolf. The phone seems to take an age to reconnect, and when it does, it goes through to Madelyn’s answering service.
“Reece Ashton. You open this door right now. I love you.”
“Fuck off you do.” I pick up the hotel phone. It’s the same self-loving guy that fulfills my request for security to come and remove the crazed fan from my door. I try to ring Madelyn again but again, the call goes straight through to her voice mail.
I will admit that I rushed to the door when I heard security call for her to step away from my door. The peephole provided enough viewing scope to watch her get dragged away. Desperate proclamations that she is my partner fall on deaf ears as she is forcibly removed. I’m pulled away from the door as the room phone starts to ring. Somehow hoping it’s Madelyn, I don’t hide my disappointment when it’s Tristan ‘from the front desk, my number one fan, mister handsy’ announces himself.
“How can I help you, Tristan?”
“Mr Ashton, I need to apologise,” his jovial and enthusiast voice is no more.
“Hmm? What’s happened that you think you need to apologise? Fans can slip through the best nets.”
“Firstly, she told me, she was your girlfriend. Typically, people of your celebrity status check in under an alias. Secondly, this woman looked like she was your girlfriend. She dropped her name and showed
me pictures of the two of you together.”
I look down at my phone and bring up the message feature to send one to Madelyn. “You gave her the card?”
“This other woman turned up saying she was your girlfriend, but you have to understand, we’ve had all sorts of people coming in and saying they were your partner, Sir.” Sir? Fucking Sir now.
“She was here? Her name is Madelyn. Where is she?” The background is now filled with the shrill of Caitlyn as she’s being frog marched across the foyer.
Tristan raises his voice over Caitlyn’s desperate call to be let go. “Well, I didn’t believe it when she said it. Like I said, the screaming banshee was very convincing.”
“Where’s Madelyn?”
He pauses, and I want to reach through the phone and shake him. “She left, Sir. She was on the phone and became quite upset. Didn’t sound like the best of phone lines, Sir.”
Tristan tells me that she is only a couple of minutes ahead of me. Fuck. I hang up on him and press Madelyn’s number.
“When you get this message, please call me back. The phone line was shit, and I think you misheard me.”
I hang up and start to Google for the pub’s phone number. Thankfully Trent answers on the fifth ring.
“No, Reece, I haven’t heard from her, saw your interview, though. Can you see now why we have nothing to do with our sisters? We blame our step-mother’s inbreeding.”
Trent’s clearly not a man for family sentiment. I scoff, “Yeah, she’s a classless one that sister of yours. Turned up on my doorstep, well, doorway trying to tell me that she wants to be with me for a business deal.”
I give him the footnotes of Caitlyn’s appearance and the shitty phone line before saying that I can’t get hold of Madelyn.
“Serious? Doesn’t help your situation that she thinks you said this stuff to her. It’s a misunderstanding, it will sort out. Might have been a good thing that they didn’t cross paths. They are like petrol and pool cleaner.” I don’t even know how to respond to that comment. “They are explosive. Geez man, doesn’t Pinterest tell you that shit?”
“How do you know about Pinterest?” It was Trent’s time to be silent. “You’ve been watching an awful lot of my interviews, Trent,” I ribbed. “Are you a fan?”
“Fuck off. It’s called research.”
“Research into what?” I really want to get the conversation back on point and find out where Madelyn is.
“To make sure you don’t fuck up with my sister. Caitlyn made her side abundantly clear that she’s all for herself. So she can reap what she sows.”
“That’s harsh, even if she is a bitch,” I say.
“I have tolerated her behaviour for the time I had to live with her. She’s evil to the core. You didn’t have to live with it. Just because I’m related to her doesn’t mean I have to put with the shit she pulls. So what’s your plan from here?”
“I need to talk to Madelyn.” Trent goes quiet, and that makes me nervous. “So if she comes home, will you talk to her. Please ask her to ring me.”
“Sure, I can do that. One more thing. So on a scale of one to ten, ten being foaming at the mouth mad, how mad are you right now with what’s happened today?”
My eyebrows instantly furrow. “Random question but I guess I was a nine with David, then a four with the conference, twelve with your sister and now I’m just more scared with your sister than angry. Why? What’s going on?”
“Well since you’re already in a shit mood, might as well tell you. I sold that picture of you driving Madelyn’s car that night and sold it to the highest bidder.”
“Say that again?” My voice came out unusually high.
“I sold that picture for one hundred and twenty thousand pounds, but before you get really pissed at me, I did it for Madelyn. I told her to use it to silence that fucker David and get this shit dealt with once and for all.” The blood is rushing to my ears and making them pound. My fingers ache from squeezing my phone. “Don’t be mad. It’s better the money gets used for good rather than lining the pockets of someone else. I did it to buy you privacy. I heard what you said in your interview about Mads and how much you like her. I wanted to do something that was going to ensure that you have a fair chance at finding a way yourselves without the pressure of the world watching on.” Damn him and his logic. I can feel my anger starting to dissipate.
“You really are a smart businessman,” I say. “And for the record, thank you. I will do anything I can to protect Madelyn. She didn’t want this lifestyle and to an extent, I don’t either.” I pull out the chair and take the seat. “So do you think Madelyn is on her way back to you? I have an interview lined up.”
“You do what you have to do. If Madelyn gets here, I’ll talk to her. Sort out your end and I’ll get her to call you.”
“Thank you,” I let out a deep breath. “Makes me wonder, given your hesitancy about me, why you are helping me.”
“Because you said you love her. I’m waiting to see the action on that.”
“Remind me of that when I see you next and want to punch you in the face.”
Chapter Forty-Six
MADELYN
My overnight bag lands with a thud on the shitty shag pile flooring of the best motel room I could afford for the night. My arms feel heavy as I reach up to slip the latch over the lock. I wait for a beat before moving towards the bathroom, dropping my keys and turned off phone on the small bench table. I strip my clothes in record time and let the water wash over me. The hot water makes my skin prickle as I move my head directly under the spray. I can’t stand it any longer as I adjust the temperature and the cold water blends into my tears. The feeling of cheapness is sadly something I’m all too familiar with. He used me. My body shakes with tearless sobs. He’s a damned good liar because I was starting to believe that he wanted to be with me. What a fuckwit.
My fingers are wrinkly by the time I shut the water off, and my tears have long stopped. My knees feel weak as I stand in the shower stall. I shake my head at myself. I’m instantly pissed that I’m playing the victim again. I shove the door with a bit too much force, and it goes flying up against the wall with a bang. I use one of the towels to tie around my hair and the other to dry my body. Sadly, the scratchiness of the material is something my body already knows. I used to tell myself that it was a like a loofah and towel all in one. I grew up with the best of the best and having to drop to ten dollar towels came with a massive drop in quality. I hate myself for sounding like such a snob, but even the luxury of a nice towel is something to savour.
Forgoing my bra, I pull my shirt over my head and my tattered underpants. I grab one of the water bottles I bought at the drive through and crack the seal on the lid. Half the bottle drains down my throat before I stop and gulp in some air. I look from the television to my silenced phone and toss up on which is going to be the lesser of two evils.
The television wins out, and I flick to channel seventeen. Flashes of the face I’ve been trying to forget appear before me. I put down the remote and bring the bottle back to my lips.
“Headlining tonight’s news, prolific journalist Jackson Worthrington’s interview with fallen rockstar Reece Ashton on his early morning news program turned into a boxing match. Reports are still hazy as to what started the fight, but to say that Worthrington is not only a pit bull in the verbal sense, but he seems to clean up alright. Let’s have a look at the footage.” The footage showed the edited version of Dad rushing towards Reece and him subsequently tumbling backwards. The clip continues with Reece trying to block my father from getting near him. To look at him, God he’s gorgeous even for a shallow bastard.
The water bottle slips from my hand as the footage of Reece and dad fighting is shown on a loop. The cold water splashing on my chest sends me scrambling off the bed while trying to stop the water from spilling more. The towel holding my hair unwinds and drops on my face. Wet tendrils smack me in the face, and I pull the towel off my head and scrub my hand over my fore
head to clear my hair away.
I race to my phone and turn it on. The thing vibrates in my hand as the messages tally. I swipe past them and press to dial Trent while rummaging through my bag for my brush and hair band.
“Bloody hell Mads,” Trent said as a way of answering. “Where the hell are you?”
I wipe at my shirt and throw the empty bottle in the bin. “I’m at a motel for the night. I can’t go to Reece, and I can’t go home. Just easier to hide out here.”
“Why can’t you go to Reece? What happened?”
My voice shakes as I tell him the story while he stays uncharacteristically quiet. “What’s going on Trent?” I blurt out. “You haven’t said one unpleasant thing about him, and that’s so not like you.”
“I guess this isn’t the way you wanted dad to find out about your new beau.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, Trent.” I continue to stare at the television while they replay the stumbling duo on a loop. Trent starts to chuckle as Reece tumbles backwards on my screen. “Are you watching channel seventeen?”
“Yep. I don’t know who is funnier. Reece or dad?”
I sit on the edge of the bed and hold my phone away from my ear. “What’s going on Trent?”
“I’ve spoken to him, and it’s all a misunderstanding.”
“Spoken to who?”
“Reece.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You’ve spoken to him?” I was hoping my tone would be more subdued than surprised. I can hear the clink of glasses and the distracting chatter of people in the background, he would be snowed under. Right, there is the silver lining. “Hope you’re charging them all double?”
“You know it. Now, he rang me right after it happened. His words were directed at Caitlyn. She landed on his doorstep after that train wreck yet highly amusing interview with dad. She was proclaiming her love for him, and when that didn’t work, she tried to negotiate a business deal with him. Publicity for both of them. We are pretty sure that’s the part you overheard and then reacted to.” I sit there slightly stunned, my fingers stop playing with the bristles on my brush. “Stop over-thinking,” Trent says just as the program presenter announces they will be showing the full interview right after the commercial break. “Shane. Tell everyone to keep it down. I want to see this.” I knew exactly what he’d be doing. Making sure that the games were turned off and switched to this channel. I could hear the announcements in stereo. “Shh,” Trent shouts to his patrons, but it’s so loud, I hear it too. “I want to hear this.”
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